I became enamored with the mostly barren mountains of Armenia’s Lori region the first time my marshutni (minibus used for public transport) crossed over the mountain pass that enters the area just south of Spitak. After a half-hour of travelling the road that lies in the shadow of Mt. Aragats northern side, the winding descent into Lori left my mouth gaping.
It’s hard to describe. There are the colors: the multiple shades of tan, brown and gray that make up the hillsides; tones which juxtapose nicely with the blotches of alabaster snow scattered on the mountaintops and the various shades of pale blue that tint the local skies.
The mountains of the Lori region are like a mother’s embrace. They fold over on you and welcome you each time you venture out to explore them. Plus, there is a certain mysticism you feel as you climb each hill and arrive at increasingly better vantage points from which to look at nearby cities and villages. The peaks of Lori offer a bird’s eye view of Armenia’s third-largest city Vanadzor or further west you can look down and take in the sprawl of Spitak, the town at the epicenter of the earthquake that hit Armenia in 1988.
Yet what’s even more special about the mountains of northern Armenia is the solitude they offer. So many conversations I’ve had with local city-dwellers or even villagers begin with the question: why do you need to climb a mountain? And my response, which is invariably the same, goes like this: to see if I can. Each time I embark on a hike through the hills of Lori, I gain so much more than just a good workout. There is an opportunity to take in the silence, to revel in the ancientness of the land and to surmise what nomads or tradesman might have wandered these peaks and valley centuries ago as they made their way from Asia to Europe.
Perhaps my biggest joy derived from running to the hills nearby my beloved Vanadzor is knowing that, most likely, the journey will involve just me, my thoughts and the random shepherds I happen upon during my walk. I recall a funny conversation I had with a shepherd one Saturday as plodded my way up Karmirsar (Red Mountain). “Why are you here?”, the shepherd asked. I shrugged and replied, “To enjoy the mountains and to imagine their history.” He offered a confused look and went on guiding his cattle down the hillside. To be honest, I didn’t really know why I was there, except perhaps to enjoy the beautiful views and to soak in the warmth of the autumn sun. But the truth is the hills of the Lori region have a very specific energy. So, maybe I was just there to recharge.
hiddenspacesblog 